


Battlescars and Beloveds

by VirginiasWolf



Category: Death in Paradise
Genre: Alternate Universe - Richard Poole Lives, F/M, They Fight and Then They Kiss and Then Well You Know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-19 21:47:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19364617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VirginiasWolf/pseuds/VirginiasWolf
Summary: Things can't just go back to the way they were before Richard "died", can they? This might not be a bad thing though. Prequel fic to "To Be Made Real Again" but you don't have to read that to understand what is happening in this.





	Battlescars and Beloveds

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, before you guys come at me about managing my schedule, I am actually now past my month of June goal for pages to have done in the original novel (by one page, mind you) and considering that piece is a horror novel I need to take time to come down off the creepy cloud and write nice things for Richard and Camille lest I accidentally lose my mind. The one downside to this cohabitation is that there is a Richard in my novel (although he doesn't typically go by that name) and it can get confusing considering that man is not remotely close to Richard Poole. Also, don't hate me for the choice in Richard and Camille's undercover names. May not be the most original choice, but at least we know they look like they would have those names.

Camille Bordey hates Richard Poole, or at least that's what she keeps telling herself. She hates how he lied to her about his death and made her think she'd lost him forever. She hates how his departure made her question not just the island, but herself as well. She hates how he seems to think that he can expect their relationship to again immediately be right where it was before he left. She hates that tonight, on their first undercover stint together, he hasn't even bothered to tell her that the dress she's wearing looks nice. She doesn't hate the man though. She just finds he's doing everything to test her patience.

Tonight is supposed to be simple enough although there may be a longer stint with these identities. Richard is a wealthy British businessman named Ben Miller and Camille is Sara, his exotic trophy wife. The objective is to find proof of drugs being smuggled within the stomachs of racehorses.

Tonight all she has had to do is look too dumb to understand anything that is going on and remain clinging to Richard's side as they navigate a fancy party. The cover story is that Ben Miller has found out about the host through a friend and he thinks that buying a racehorse would be just the right kind of frivolous expense.

She has hated most of the night, not because she had to play dumb; that part was actually kind of fun, but because there was no strong reaction from Richard in regards to her presence. Sure he'd had his arm around her the whole time, and at one point he'd even accidentally slipped his hand over her ass only to quickly withdraw it in what seemed like the strongest emotion of the night, but that had been the extent of it without as much as an attempt at the friendly banter that used to dominate their relationship. Maybe he was just trying to do a good job at acting undercover, or maybe he genuinely had no emotional connection to her anymore. Either way, she was surprised their cover hadn't been blown by the lack of even pretend passion he showed towards her.

In the guest house, Camille tries her best to hide her annoyance, only to have Richard tipped off by the way she angrily rummages through her bag looking for her pajamas.

"I'm sorry that tonight wasn't particularly intellectually stimulating for you. I'm sure tomorrow will be more so."

"If our cover isn't blown." Camille gives up temporarily on the pajama search and purposely strides over to Richard.

A look comes across his face that reminds her of the first case they'd worked together when she'd threatened him with bodily harm if he didn't respect her. 

She almost feels guilty for this. Almost, except she's more angry than she is sorry. "I did my part. You, on the other hand, showed yourself to be a sad passionless man who cares for nothing. I bet Sara Miller wouldn't sleep with her husband if he was the last man alive and it was so incredibly obvious that even our mark knows it."

"Look, I'm sorry that the dress made you uncomfortable." Richard seems to be thinking quickly, but not coming to the right conclusions. How can such a brilliant man be so stupid to think her rage is at having to wear a tight dress and cling onto somebody's arm? Sure, she would be offended if a real date treated her like no more than a sex object, but she enjoys the pretend, and the dress is actually kind of cute although it certainly leaves very little to the imagination.

"Do you really think this is about tonight?!" She's raising her voice, but she doesn't care. The guest house is far enough away from the main one that nobody will hear their argument. "I had to pretend to make myself fall in love with someone else so that I wouldn't be heartbroken every time I had to visit somewhere that we'd been together!"

He isn't responding and for a moment this makes her even more annoyed until she realizes that she's gripping at his bowtie a little too tight and instead of untying it, she's been accidentally choking him.

The moment she lets him go, he takes a deep grateful breath before launching into his own counter-remark. "At least you still had somebody! I came out of a coma to find out even my parents had been told that I was dead and that I couldn't even return to the one place I'd finally felt like I belonged!"

Both are silent for a moment as they each process each other's revelations. Finally, Camille huffs loudly before turning away from him. Her continued anger is childish she knows, of course once he was working with INTERPOL he couldn't turn around and tell her that he was alive, lest he blew his own cover, but still the fact that she had spent more than a year trying to pretend to herself that a fake relationship which had felt more like a parent caring for a difficult, possessive child, was the only happiness she could hope to have, makes her unable to calm down.

"You waited over a year to find me again!"

"It took me months to come out of that coma and by the time I did, I thought you were already happy again, but then I needed something to anchor myself back into the real world so I decided to try to be selfish and get you back. I'm sorry."

He sounds so dejected that she can't help but turn back around, and when she does, she sees that he is making that same lost puppy face that she's seen on him so many times before. She can never stay angry with him when he's making that face. Of course, in the past, it has usually been followed by something that snapped her back into her annoyance, but this time she vows to herself that nothing will do so.

She makes an impulsive decision, kissing him fully on the mouth before she can decide that it isn't actually worth it. Instead of pushing her away, he kisses her back with the hunger of someone who is looking for some form of anchor in a storm. No thinking, just feeling and acting. This is the kind of passion that would have been helpful earlier at the party, well not this exactly, because kissing soon leads to undressing and frankly public sex has never been her forte.

In the past, she'd wondered if he'd treat sex like some sort of experiment, and in a way he does; making sure to learn exactly what spots are most likely to set her off into ecstasy. He spends so much time trying to take care of her needs, that he almost forgets his own until she takes over and forces him to let her take care of his needs as well.

When the act is finished, as they lay tangled together on the bed, Camille realizes that she is crying, which almost embarasses her until she realizes that Richard also has tears on his cheeks. She can't remember ever seeing him like this before, but somehow she knows that they're tears of relief.

Softly, she traces the half-moon scar on his chest; the one from the injury that had almost taken him away from her forever. "You know, I never imagined that you would obtain a battle scar."

"It's not really a battle scar." His face flushes with embarrassment in the moonlight. "I wasn't even awake at the time."

"You're selling yourself short. It is a battle scar because you were strong enough to survive, even when the odds were against you."

Embarrassment seems to be replaced with pride and a small smile appears on his face. "I never thought of it that way before."

They have to set an alarm so that they'll be able to make sure they are awake in time to shower and change into the correct clothes for day two of playing a stuffy British businessman and his beautiful but perpetually clueless wife, and so Camille reluctantly sits up in bed to fiddle with the alarm clock on the cellphone she has been issued for this case. 

Richard immediately grumbles about the sudden loss of warmth, barely letting her finish with the task at hand before pulling her back down onto the bed with him.

Immediately, she nestles into his chest, wanting to hear the beating of his heart as she falls asleep.

For a second, Richard almost seems timid and Camille wonders if she's been too forward by wanting to spend the rest of the night curled up partially on top of him. She soon realizes that the timidness isn't about whether or not he wants her to touch him, but about trying to figure out how much she is okay with him initiating touch, which is almost endearing, except for the self-doubt she knows must be propelling his nervousness.

Not wanting him to feel nervous, she decides to provide a hint for him. "You know, I've always had this fantasy of having my hand held as I fell asleep."

At first, it seems like he's about to say something in response. Typical Richard fashion, managing to constantly find some way to annoy her even when she thinks it isn't actually possible. This time he seems to realize that a long-winded verbal response would be far from appropriate, and instead, he silently laces his fingers through hers before asking cheekily, "So, do you still think Ben Miller is sad and passionless?"

Camille pretends to take a moment to debate. "Very much so, but Richard Poole has certainly proved himself otherwise."


End file.
